Detentions
by metric-electric
Summary: While discussing the Christmas Ball, Draco and Hermione have a physical fight that gets them both in detentions. Will the detentions they have to serve be utterly unbearable? Or will it be worthwhile?
1. Dead Weight

Detentions

Written by Jami Ruggeri

July 25th, 2006

Chapter One: Dead Weight

Head Girl, Hermione Granger drifted down the staircases, reluctant to even try to have a normal conversation with Head Boy, Draco Malfoy. With a look of disgust Hermione made her way to the dungeons, hopeful that Malfoy would be cooperative. The night air sifted through the corridors, dank and cold. She shivered as she came to the portrait that would lead to the Slytherin common room. Since she was Head Girl, Hermione was able to proceed into any of the House's common rooms, if only to discuss official duties. Sighing, Hermione gave the proper password and held her breath as the portrait swung open to reveal the dark, and stonewalled Slytherin common room. Candles and torches flickered violently on the walls and tables.

There were hardly any Slytherins out and about, only a few students were studying at a desk, two of which she recognized as Millicent Bullstrode and Blaise Zabini, and Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Greggory Goyle were sitting on a couch, whispering intently with amused expressions. Malfoy laughed out loud, and Pansy giggled. Goyle rolled his eyes. That's when Pansy spotted Hermione.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" She spewed, her dark eyes sparkling with loathing. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I have to speak with Malfoy. So if you would excuse us, we need to discuss important matters." Hermione told her, gesturing for Malfoy to follow her out of the portrait hole. Malfoy sniggered, but followed.

Once out of the common room, Malfoy turned on Hermione. "What's so important, Mudblood?" Hermione clenched her teeth, but let it go.

"We need to discuss our next meeting. You know, to figure out whose doing what and where for the Christmas Ball in two weeks." Malfoy yawned. Hermione sighed. "Look, I don't want to do this either. I could be studying for Transfiguration, but I knew I had to get this out of the way. The meeting is tomorrow night."

"Okay, Granger, don't get your panties in a bunch. Let's go sit down in a classroom or something." He grabbed her arm and led her into a spare classroom that looked as if it hadn't been used in ages. "I'll go get some paper and a quill."

Hermione was indeed surprised at his well-behaved manners this night, and quite relieved that he was being so cooperative. He sat down across from her, giving her a weird look. "What are you staring at?" He asked her. Hermione blushed and looked away.

"Nothing at all. Now, who should take care of the decorations? I suggest Padma Patil and Hannah Abbot. What do you think?" Hermione said, twirling her hair, watching his expressions.

"Whatever. Does it matter?"

"Of course it does! Well, maybe not to you, anyway. Okay, so who should be in charge of music and catering?"

Malfoy leaned back in his chair, lifting his feet up onto the table and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lifted one to his mouth and lit it with his wand. He took a deep drag and after a few seconds, let the smoke spill from his mouth, creating a perfect circle. "That sounds like a job for Pansy and yourself." He said, a smirk plastered onto his handsome face.

Hermione looked insulted. "Are you kidding? Me, working with that complete _cow_? You must be joking."

"Now, now, be nice. She isn't that bad."

"She's positively dreadful." Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms. "And when did you start smoking?" She asked, wanting him to forget his suggestion.

He chuckled. "Fourth year."

"Oh." She peered around the empty, dusty, dark classroom. "Why?"

"I was bored, and I just sort of stuck with it one day."

"I think you should put it out. Snape or Filch could bust in at any moment and give you a detention for smoking on school premises." He smirked.

"Relax, Granger. I know you're concerned for my well-being, but Snape already knows of my little habit. Although he doesn't necessarily approve, he's not my father, and he's caught me on several occasions lighting one up and doesn't give me detention or anything like that." He chuckled at her astonished expression and he took a few more drags. "What one?"

"Um… no thanks. I'd rather not kill myself with cancer-sticks." He shrugged and took another puff. "Anyway, I'm not working with Pansy Parkinson. I doubt she would even want to work with me as well."

"Give it a try. You could become best friends!" He cried, imitating an annoying teenage girl.

"Sod off. You're ridiculous." She told him.

"Well, if you're so scared of Pansy, you could team up with me." He told her, smirking and showing some pearly white teeth.

"I am not scared of stupid Pansy, but I would honestly rather work with you than her. I can at least stand being in the same room with you for more than five minutes." She said through clenched teeth, a blush on her face.

"Ah. I see…" He trailed off, a look of curiosity on his features.

"What is that look for? It's not what you think!" She sputtered, waving her hands in front of her.

"You fancy me, don't you, Granger?" He said, putting his cigarette out on the hardwood table. Smoke drifted upwards, clouding the area around them.

"Ugh! No! I was just saying that you're much more tolerable than Pansy! I swear!"

"It's alright to have a crush on someone, Granger. And honestly, I'm proud of you. You fancy only the most handsome, pureblooded Slytherin there is yet. But don't worry, you're not the only one, I assure you." Hermione slammed a fist onto the table.

"I don't fancy you! I could never fancy someone whose a downright foul git!" Hermione stood.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." He stood as well, and crossed his arms, smirking wickedly. Hermione let out a frustrated groan. "You know, Granger, you're kind of sexy when you're angry. Now I finally know why I love to pester you to no end." She let out another groan and smacked him across his face, the sound echoing off of the stonewalls, leaving small vibrations in the floor. Malfoy reached up and touched his face where a faint red mark was beginning to appear on his tender, pale skin. He reached out and grabbed one of her arms, pulling her forward. Her knees hit the table with a loud thud and she cried out in pain. "Now, now. I was complimenting you. That was uncalled for."

"Get off me! You're hurting my arm!" She wailed, and he pulled her closer, breathing down at her face. He smelled like smoke and spice, and she nearly swooned at the strong, musty scent. He took a hold of her shoulders and she was sitting on the table. "I said get off!"

"That's not a bad look for you, Granger. Your hair all frizzy and knotty, sweat beading off of your face and down your neck into the little nook of your breasts. Looks like you've just had a quickie."

"Shut up, you perverted prat!" And she began punching him hard into his chest, knocking him forward. He brought her with him, and then they were both standing. She wouldn't stop and he ended up getting frustrated and his ego was falling, so he took a hold of her firmly and threw her down and she collapsed in a heap onto the stone cold floor, hitting her head. "Ow…" She cried, holding the back of her head and trying to sit up.

"Well, that's what you get for punching the living daylights out of my chest and stomach. You've sure got the nerve." Malfoy sneered. Hermione got up shakily, and once she got a good hold of herself, she ran towards him, knocking him to the ground, landing on his ass. "You'll pay for that one, Granger."

"No! Now we're even, Malfoy." She reached to the back of her head and looked at her hand. It was covered in blood. "Malfoy, I'm bleeding."

"Shit. That's just great. Now you're going to go run off to McGonagall and tattle on me. Perfect." He said, getting up. Hermione's eyes rolled around and she stumbled forward, landing right into Malfoy's arms. "What's the matter with you now?"

"I can't… I feel… Malfoy…" And she became unconscious, a dead weight in Malfoy's arms.


	2. Knickers and Fags

AN: thank you for all of the nice reviews! And DON'T WORRY! Draco is not going soft. Hell no. Probably never, and if he is, it won't be for a while, and trust me, if he does he won't be going that soft, haha. And without further ado, here's the second chapter!

Detentions

Written By Jami Ruggeri

August 2nd, 2006

Chapter Two: Knickers and Fags

Hermione awoke in the Hospital Wing, a searing pain in her skull. She touched the back of her head, but this time it was not bleeding. _'Madam Pomfrey must have worked her magic,'_ She thought, no pun intended. She sat up, ignoring her throbbing headache, and peered around the room. She was the only student there. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall bustled into the room, a stern expression on her face.

"I see you're now awake, Miss Granger." The Head of Gryffindor House said to her. Hermione nodded. "Well, Mr. Malfoy told me everything when he walked into my office the other night carrying you. He told me that he provoked you, as usual, and you had acted by punching him in the stomach and chest." She had a hint of a smile on her features. "He confessed that he threw you down, which was the cause of the bleeding and minor concussion you have acquired. You should be fully cured by tomorrow morning, and as are the consequences, you and Mr. Malfoy will have detentions together, cleaning the dungeon classrooms. Of course, since he has no concussion and his injuries are limited, he shall have a week's detention, and you only three days. Maybe now you two will learn how to work together as a team and to get along more nicely? You are, after all, Head Girl and Boy." She finished and gave Hermione a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall."

That evening it was particularly hard to fall asleep for Hermione. She shifted in her bed again, and peered over at the clock on the wall. It read that it was only eight thirty six. Hermione was hungry, and she hadn't been able to eat when earlier Madam Pomfrey had given her a well-made dinner. Her head had been hurting too much. But now, after the medicine she had received, she was finally in a good state to eat. Too bad there was nothing to eat. She sighed and turned onto her back, her stomach rumbling.

"Hungry, Granger?"

Hermione sat up. "Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

"Can't a guy visit the girl he gave a concussion to?" He smirked and sat down onto her bed. "Well, detention together… at least for three days. Should be fun, right?" He chuckled; Hermione let a small smile escape her lips.

"I suppose." She said, and played with her hair, which was quite greasy, and she let it fall to one side of her shoulder. "And yes, I am starving. Don't reckon you have anything to eat, do you?"

Malfoy shook his head and got up off the bed. "No, but I could go to the kitchens and ask the house-elves to make something for you."

"That would be nice." She said, smiling. "Rather odd that you would even offer, but alright." He shrugged.

"Well… it's… the least I could do." It sounded as if he had a rather hard time telling her that. He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Thanks, Malfoy. That's very kind of you." Hermione told him, knowing that he deserved kind words at his offer. She didn't want him to be embarrassed by just offering to get her some food.

"Ah, right. I'll be off then." And he left.

Hermione woke up the next morning, a Monday, satisfied about the night before. The soup and biscuits were quite tasty and she was glad that Malfoy had gotten them for her. The only thing she dreaded about the day was that she had to spend the night in detention. And with Malfoy. _'Hopefully it won't be so bad. I pray to Merlin that we don't end up fighting again. I don't want another concussion.'_ She walked into the Great Hall and sat down beside Ron and Harry.

"'Mione! We're so glad you're okay!" Harry smiled and said through mouthfuls of pancakes.

"Yeah, Hermione. I swear, I'll hex Malfoy so bad he'll won't know what hit him." Ron said, a look of determination on his face as he peered over at the Slytherin table.

"Really, Ron, I'm sure detention with me for three nights is quite enough punishment." She said, tucking in her pancakes and bacon.

"No way. He deserves to be hexed to know end. No one gives my friends concussions and gets away with no injuries himself."

"It's fine, Ron. I'm sure he's learned his lesson."

"Oi, 'Mione? What are you defending _him _for? He harassed you and injured your head! Injured it quite a lot if you ask me." Ron exclaimed, gulping a bit of bacon down.

"Yes, Ron, I am well aware of the injuries he inflicted upon me. I'll make sure to hex him for it later…" She lied, and trailed off as the owl-post flew in, an owl dropping a _Daily Prophet_ in front of her. She began reading it.

In Potions that day Malfoy lecherously wiggled his eyebrows at her, and in return, Hermione offered him one raised eyebrow in amusement.

The day was going by slowly and by lunch Hermione was ready to pass out from exhaustion. Having loads of homework topped with head girl duties and trying her best to keep up with Harry and Ron was just all too much. But she _was_ Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Golden Girl, and Brightest Witch of her Age. It was a well-known title, and if she couldn't do it, no one could.

Finally seven o'clock rolled around and Hermione headed downstairs to the dungeons where she was permitted to meet Malfoy and Professor Snape to get instructions as to how they were spending their detentions.

She entered Snape's classroom where he greeted her with a scowl, as usual. She sat down in a random seat close to his desk where he was sitting. Obviously, Malfoy was late. Hermione checked her watch. _'Oh, for Merlin's sake. Let's just get this over with.'_

No more than two minutes later Malfoy bustled into the dark classroom, a robust graceful air to him. He sat down beside Hermione. "Where were _you_?" She asked him.

"I was being fashionably late, of course." He told her matter-of-factly. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, now that you are both present, without further ado I will tell you what needs to be done. You can start with my classroom. Dust the tables, desks, and bookshelves, anything that needs tending to. Once finished with that you may start alphabetizing my book collection, over on the right wall. It's quite a collection so I don't think you'll be leaving for another few hours." He paused for their reactions. None came.

_'That's not too bad. As long as I have my trusty wand…'_

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot," Snape added before leaving the classroom. "You are not allowed to use magic. Enjoy yourselves." Malfoy snorted. And with that he left the two alone.

"Oh, perfect." Hermione groaned. "Just what I needed." She got up and walked over to a random cabinet where luckily she found a few feather dusters at her first attempt. Soon she began working on the cabinets and shelves full of potion vials and extra cauldrons and ingredients. After about five minutes Hermione noticed that her partner was still sitting in his chair. She turned to face him. "Something wrong, Malfoy?"

He smirked. "Of course not. Why do you ask?" Hermione was confused.

"You're not dusting. You're still sitting in your chair.'

"I know. I'd much rather you do all of that Muggle work. It's really just not my style." He said, and leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head and his legs upon the table.

"I don't really give a rat's ass what your style is. You have to serve this detention as well. Now get up, and help me."

"Well, well, well. You certainly are feisty this evening." He grinned at her appalled expression.

"Shut up, you." And she threw him a duster.

"I don't think so." He put the duster on the table.

"Oh, c'mon! Just do it. The sooner we finish we can leave!" He sighed and got up.

"Fine, how about I go and work on the books while you dust? Things will go much more quickly that way."

"Oh, sure! You go and do the easy work while I have to get all dirty!"

"Oh, just quit complaining already. I said I would do work, that's better than what I was initially going to do, so just shut that pretty little mouth of yours up and we can get out of here."

Hermione was rendered without anything to say, so she balled her fists and clenched her teeth and continued to work without saying anything more to him.

About forty-five minutes later Malfoy was on the O's and Hermione was on her hands and knees dusting the lower shelves filled with the old, extra copies of potions books, most of them for first and second years. Malfoy was having a hard time keeping track with the O's and was soon getting them mixed up with the Q's and not noticing because of the lovely sight he got to watch on the floor. Every time she leaned forward a little, her skirt would ride up and Malfoy got to see the slightest bit of her green knickers. So lucky was he that not only was it his favorite color, but one of his house colors as well. He thought it was ironic.

Feeling mischievous, Malfoy grabbed a random book and tossed it to the floor, a little bit in front of Hermione, just enough so she had to reach to get it. He smirked, "Granger, you mind getting that for me?"

"I would think you would be a little more poised, Malfoy…"

Ah, yes. There she went. One knee lurched a tiny bit forward, revealing her milky, lean thighs and quite a lovely little eyeful of her lacy knickers. She then stood, book in hand, and dusting off her skirt, she walked towards him and handed him the abandoned artifact. "Thanks, Granger." And he gave her the sexiest smirk he could muster. She grinned.

"You're very welcome, Malfoy, but the next time you want to catch a glimpse of my knickers, you could just ask." She gave him a know-it-all look with raised eyebrows and pursed lips and turned away, continuing her work.

He was first stunned and caught off guard with her statement. How had she known? He thought he was being sneaky. But then again, once he got to thinking, she really was smart and he guessed he wasn't being as smooth and as shady as he thought. Then he gave a real smile, hiding it behind a ratty old book starting with the letter R. She had just given him a show, knowing full well that it was what he had wanted, meaning she had been flirting. Prude, stuck-up, know-it-all Granger had flirted with him! How awfully surprising it was. Draco was truly proud of himself, probably being one of the first that has ever been flirted with by Granger. He wanted to applaud himself at the thought, but it quickly vanished when he felt breath upon his shoulder, giving him chills at the nape of his neck. He turned to face her.

"Yes?" He asked.

"I've finished dusting, so now I'm going to help you alphabetize." Almost immediately she stepped in front of him and began her quick alphabetizing. Not caring about work anymore, Malfoy studied the figure in front of him. He hair, bushy, but slightly tamed to what he was used to back in the day. They were soft honey-brown curls, and a tad bit knotty, but it made her look animalistic, which he liked. The curve of her hips, nicely shaped, but not too big. Her bum, _very_ nicely shaped. He almost wanted to reach out and rub his hand upon it. He inwardly laughed, knowing full well he would get slapped to death if he even tried. His gaze went back to her unruly curls, and _that_ he touched, lightly caressing the soft locks. To his surprise they were much softer than they looked. She stiffened at the contact, and turned to face him.

"What _are_ you doing?" She asked, almost whispering. He said nothing, but studied her features from this view. She had chocolate brown eyes, big and saucer-shaped. It gave her an innocent look. Deep within the sweet brown he detected a fiery orange that twinkled with her true Gryffindor ways. Her cheeks were slightly pink, most likely because he had been petting her like a kitten just a few moments ago. Ah, her lips. They were slightly open, her breath in heavy, quiet pants. Simple and delicate was her top lip, and her bottom lip was full and luscious. Her neck was defined and womanly, the part of her that kept her head held high in certain situations. Her breasts, not much he could observe through her vest and white collared top, but they were there. Probably very soft, he thought. They weren't huge like Pansy's (which he really wasn't a fan of), but not overly small. They were perky. That he liked. Thin, she was, but with meat on her. And then he was back to her face when he noticed her nervous shifting. "Wh-why are you staring?" She asked him breathlessly. Having been under his gaze for several moments made her feel nauseous. And she was swooning under his hungry gaze. Why was he making her feel like this? It was _Malfoy_, for Merlin's sake. She wasn't supposed to be in any way attracted to him.

"Err… are you finished yet?" He said, changing the subject, not wanting her to press any further. She gave him a confused look.

"Um, almost done. I just have a quick bit to finish." She turned around quickly, hoping to Merlin he wouldn't start caressing her hair again, and finished up what alphabetizing she had left. She then checked her watch. "Hmm… well, we got finished in only an hour. Funny, Snape thought it was going to take us forever, it seemed."

"Ah, well. Snape doesn't really have a lot of confidence in his students." He said.

"Yes, I noticed."

Awkward silence.

"Fag?" He broke the quiet.

"Excuse me?"

He felt through his pocket and held out a packet of cigarettes. A look of realization struck her features.

"Oh, umm…" She thought through the matter. It _was_ just _one_ cigarette. It wasn't very likely that she would want another. This was just for experience. Plus, she just worked her ass off cleaning up Snape's stupid potions classroom. She needed someway to relax. But before she had time to respond, he grabbed her hand and put the cigarette into her palm. "Well, okay."

He too got one out for himself and lit it, then lit hers. She sucked in through the filter, inhaling deeply. Suddenly it felt as if her throat had blackened and a great dusty ball was stuck in her lungs. She coughed madly, almost dropping the smoldering white stick. Malfoy laughed and patted her on the back. "It happens to everyone with their first fag. You'll get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it." She sputtered through her fit of coughs. "I give up." She went to give him the cigarette but he only smirked. "Take it. I don't want it anymore."

"I thought Gryffindors never gave up. C'mon, at least you can say that you actually got through smoking a fag without cowering out."

"Not everyone thinks smoking is cool, Malfoy."

"I _don't_, but why the hell not? It's _just_ a cigarette. Wow, you really are a prude."

That stabbed Hermione a little harder than she thought it would. Mustering up her courage and pushing her senses to the back of her head, she put the cigarette to her lips again, and inhaled not as deeply this time. She kept the smoke inside her lungs for a moment, and then, deciding to show Malfoy who was boss, she blew the smoke in his face. _'He didn't even flinch, the bastard.'_

"Did you know, Granger, in certain country's like America, blowing smoke directly in another's face means you want to fuck them?" Hermione almost gagged.

"No, I did not. And I _certainly_ wasn't thinking about it." She put the fag to her lips again. He watched as her lips pursed around the cigarette, her chest heaved forward as she inhaled sharply, and as she let the smoke drift out of her mouth delicately and not anywhere near his face. Then her eyes were on him, almost waiting for him to say something.

With that, he gave a great puff on his cancer-stick, and, smirking, he bent down eye-level to her, and blew the smoke into her eyes. She stiffened, and finished her fag, throwing it on the floor and stepping on it.

"Well, seeing as how we're finished, I might as well get back to the Gryffindor common room. See you tomorrow evening."

And she left, quickly and without looking at him.

He too, finished his cigarette, tossed it to the stone floor, stepped on it, and left the classroom.

AN: well, there you have it. It's much more longer than the first chapter. Oh! And I've already started writing the third chapter! It's not finished though, but expect it to be done and posted soon!

**Love and kisses,**

**Jami.**


	3. Loneliness and Guilt

AN: yep, so here's the third chapter! Thanks for the reviews! Keep them coming people! I need support if I'm going to keep writing this story! This is probably like, one of the best fics I've written, and longest too. Soo… yeah, support me here!

Detentions

Written by Jami Ruggeri

August 4th, 2006: my birthday!

Chapter Three: Loneliness and Guilt

Draco was laying in his Head Boy room, relishing the feeling of his soft, silky, green bed sheets, a million thoughts going through his shiny blonde head. He never thought, ever, that he would feel attracted to that know-it-all prissy Mudblood. But just a few hours ago, he had been in very close proximity to her. He got to smell her wild pumpkin and honey scented hair, and got to touch it and stroke it. He had looked into her deep chocolaty-fiery eyes and he got to watch her as she smoked a fag, looking absolutely deadly and dangerous, something that Granger was usually not. He had watched her give him a small show, showing off her killer green knickers, flirting with him shamelessly, yet subtly.

He tossed over on his side. No, he could never actually _like_ the Mudblood. No, never. That was preposterous. It was sheer taboo, at least in his case. He was brought up to hate Mudbloods, and it would be a great shame to fancy one such as her. And yet, even though he couldn't _like_ her, he was still _lusting_ after her. Those were two different things, right? Right. He was sure. She was attractive. Very attractive, he gave her that. But she was bossy, and prude, and a know-it-all priss. Not to mention a downright bitch. But he had to admit, when she was standing before him, her saucer-shaped deep brown orbs glowing up at him with innocence, he had wanted to back her up against that bookshelf and kiss her fiercely. He had wanted to feel her breasts and part her legs and stroke her until she came in his arms. Yes, he wanted her. He wanted her badly.

But the question was: Could he have her?

Hermione groaned. She had been trying to fall asleep for what seemed like ages. She tossed her silky red sheets off of her at one point because of the humidity, only to have them back over her in minutes because she was too cold. She had tried stuffing her face inside her pillow, but she couldn't manage to breathe while doing so. She had tried having one foot out of the covers, or laying on her side, but nothing seemed to work, damnit, and she knew why.

He was crowding her thoughts. Why? Not even Merlin knew. All she could think of was how he had studied her so intensely. His eyes had swept over her body so serenely, so hungrily. She had almost rubbed her thighs together to ease her ache, but she had first and foremost wanted to vanish any thoughts of Draco Malfoy from her mind. He was a smug, loathsome, pureblooded prat, and she just wasn't able to take the thought of him rubbing up against her by any means. She had almost wished he had after she saw his hungry eyes sweep over her neck and chest. She had wanted to kiss him.

Hermione shook her head. _No_. No, no, _no_. She would not have it. She would not let Draco Malfoy, prick of all pricks, seduce her. She would not give in to temptation. No matter what, she had to avoid his hungry eyes. She was Hermione Granger. To her, nothing was impossible. She could definitely resist him. Definitely. _Totally_. Right.

Right?

"Oi, Hermione. You alright?"

Hermione peered up at Ron while he was munching on his biscuit. Lunch was his favorite meal. "Uh, yes. I'm fine."

"Oh, yeah. How was your detention with Malfoy?" He asked her. Him and Harry watched her for an answer. She swallowed her bit of bacon and took a sip of her tea. She was deciding whether to tell them that it went smoothly or horribly. Which, in the real situation, it was both.

"Not bad. Malfoy didn't really do much, but at least we got along alright. We didn't really talk much, anyway…" She took a bite of her toast.

"You didn't hex him?" Ron asked, a look of confusion on his face. She shook her head. "Why not? After what he did to you, I was sure you would…"

"Well, I'm more or less over it now. All that matters to me right now is getting through these next two detentions alive and well."

And with that, Harry and Ron let the subject of the detentions go, and began talking heatedly about their last Quidditch game before the holidays, which was, ironically, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. As Hermione sipped her tea, she felt eyes leering at her. Quietly and slowly, she looked up and checked the Great Hall for anybody staring at her. She gasped when she saw it was Malfoy, his hungry eyes sending her blood rippling through her body with electricity. And, just as quickly as she had locked eyes with him, he looked away, laughing at something Pansy Parkinson had said. Clearing her throat, she finished her tea, took a quick bite of what was left of her toast, said her goodbyes to the boys, and left the Great Hall as quickly as possible, heading up to her room.

Malfoy watched her leave, her body swiftly moving, her hips gently swaying, her hair whizzing behind her in great tufts. He snorted and then turned back to Pansy. She was blabbering about who knows what, but she fluttered her eyelashes at him lustily, and he let the image of Hermione drift slowly through his mind, imagining she was the one batting her eyelashes so dreamily at him.

"Isn't that right, Drakie?" She asked him, rubbing her arm against him flirtatiously.

He nodded and said, "Of course, Pansy." She gave a squeal of approval, and then began listening to something Blaise Zabini was saying, completely forgetting about the popular, Legendary Slytherin Ladies Man, Draco Malfoy. He frowned, a little bit upset about the attention someone else was getting, when he, Malfoy was there instead, sitting right next to her.

It's not like he was in love with Pansy Parkinson. He was actually far from it. Sure, they had their occasional shags, but she wasn't that special to him. The only reason he kept her around was because they had lost their virginities together during fifth year. For some odd reason, he couldn't let go of the fact that he shared that part of himself with her first, out of anybody else. He was most comfortable with her, as was she with him, so they had some weird, crazy bond that would always be there.

But other than that little bit of information he couldn't really care less about the girl. He felt a twinge of guilt about it whenever she would coo and look up at him so lovingly, but decided it was best to ignore it. He knew that she was in love with him, but he didn't feel for her in that way.

He peered over at the Gryffindor table once again, disgusted with the scene that was displayed in front of the entire school. Lavender Brown had taken the place where Hermione had been sitting just a few minutes ago and was all over the Weasel, stroking his hair and blowing kisses at him. Hadn't they already had a thing? _'I thought that relationship ended last year after Granger got involved… at least, that's what I heard.'_ If Hermione had known what was going on after she left Weasley on his own she would probably be furious and humiliated.

And, just like Pansy was in love with him, Draco realized that Hermione was in love with Ron, and he felt even guiltier even though he wasn't involved. He erased the guilt from his mind mere seconds after he felt it, frustrated with himself for even feeling pity for a Mudblood.

During Transfiguration that afternoon Draco stared at Hermione, wondering how on earth he was going to seduce her. She most likely wouldn't be at all willing. She would need convincing. Really, _really_ good convincing. He began thinking. And then decided that tonight during their detention he would bring up the Weasel to try and strike a nerve somewhere in her. Then maybe if she felt sorry for herself enough, she would come crawling into his arms. It was most improbable, but he was willing to try it.

Before dinner that evening, Hermione sat in the Common Room, studying for her Charms exam the next day. Harry came in through the portrait hole and stood beside her desk. "Do you know where Ron is? I haven't seen him since Herbology ended."

"Hmm… me neither. Maybe he forgot something somewhere." She gave him a shrug and looked back over her notes. Harry sat on the edge of the desk, crumpling some of her papers. She rolled her eyes at his ignorance.

"Or maybe he's with-" But Harry stopped what he was saying and looked guiltily at the floor. Hermione momentarily forgot her crumpled notes, her curiosity piqued.

"With who, Harry?"

"Never mind, I shouldn't have said anything. You'll just get upset." He told her, getting off the table and turning to go up to the boys' dormitories. She grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

"I'll be even more upset if you don't tell me. Who is Ron with?"

But her question didn't have to be answered with words because at that exact moment Ron and Lavender stumbled in through the portrait hole, hand in hand. Hermione's face fell, her mouth agape, her heart pounding fast. Her stomach ached and her knees almost gave way. _'Ron and Lavender are back together…'_

Ron peered up and saw Hermione's expression and quickly let go of Lavender's hand, his ears turning a dark shade of red as well as his cheeks and nose. They quickly walked past Harry and Hermione to the wall in between the girls' dormitories and the boys' dormitories. Lavender leaned up and kissed him on his lips for a moment or two before saying goodbye and heading up to the dormitory.

Hermione turned to look at the opposite wall, neither facing Ron nor Harry. Tears began welding up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She would not cry about _this_ in front of _them_.

"Hermione…" Ron started.

"Don't." She said almost inaudibly. "There's no need to explain when I just saw everything with my own two eyes. You and Lavender are back together. Big deal. Who cares?" She shuddered and her hands clenched into fists and her teeth ground together.

"Actually, 'Mione, you see, her and I _aren't_ back together. We're just…" Ron shuffled his feet. But Hermione didn't need to hear the rest. She snapped her body to face him, a look of disgust played in her brown eyes.

"You two are _shagging_?" She asked, her voice cracking under the pressure. He nodded grimly. She breathed in deeply and walked up to him, her eyes barely able to keep the tears from sliding down her face. "Why would you go to _Lavender_…" She paused but kept her gaze locked with his, wanting him to feel the ache just as much as her. "…When you could have come to _me_?" Harry's mouth opened in shock and Ron's ears grew the deepest shade of scarlet ever known to man, and he peered down guiltily at her.

"I would have, Hermione! Honestly! But I thought that you were…" He trailed off. Hermione blinked twice then closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

"Prude?" He nodded. Harry looked disbelievingly from one to the other. "I am, but I would have been willing if you had actually came to me. But obviously you would rather get it from someone so _easy_ as Lavender. Where's the _fun_ in that?"

Ron went to grab her shoulder but she snapped away from him. "And don't you _dare_ think that since we've confessed and talked about it that I would actually go to you _now_! Ronald Weasley, you _disgust_ me!" And she ran from the common room to her Head Girl room.

She collapsed onto the silky read satin of her Gryffindor bedding and cried her eyes out. She began punching the pillows, imagining that it was Ron's face she was injuring. She wailed and sniffled and wept and sobbed but nothing seemed to make the situation feel any better. When nothing seemed to ease her pain or her pride, she sat up, pondering her next actions for a moment, and then got up from her bed, walking to her vanity. She opened a small drawer filled with pencils, a hairbrush, a pencil sharpener, scattered lip-glosses and powders, and a pair of scissors. She picked up the scissors, relishing in the feel of the sharp edge on her fingers as she spread them over the blade.

She had never done this before, but nothing seemed to work. She felt unloved, unwanted, and most of all, lonely as hell. She had no one. She lined the blade up to the flesh on her wrist and slid it rather hard over the limb slowly. She closed her eyes and lolled her head back as she felt the prickling sensation of fresh blood seep out through the new wound. And she did it again in a different spot. And again, and again, and again.

Her wrist was now filled with long, bloody cuts and she didn't know whether to be proud or ashamed of it, but she felt satisfied enough and put the scissors back into the drawer and laid back down onto her bed, falling asleep shortly after.

At dinner, Harry and Ron weren't surprised when Hermione never showed up. Malfoy however, wasn't pleased. He peered almost longingly over at the table, up and down, searching for the brown-haired Golden Girl, but she was nowhere to be seen. He grunted in disapproval and continued eating his dinner while Pansy giggled at something Blaise has said.

Hermione's eyes flew open and the first thing she saw was the automatic clock her parent's had given her as one of her presents for getting the position of Head Girl. It read 7:10.

"Bloody hell!" She flew out of bed, slipped her shoes back on and left the Head Girl's dormitory, forgetting her cloak.

"Sorry I'm late!" Hermione flew into Snape's Classroom, greeted by his scowl and Draco's amused expression. "I fell asleep in my room."

"That's wonderful, Granger, but I'm going to have to take ten points from Gryffindor, for not being punctual." Hermione nodded and Snape gave them directions that they were to take inventory on all of Snape's ingredients and the ones that were not up to par with the right amounts they were to go and fetch from the Herbology classroom the next night. After he handed Hermione the clipboard with the extremely long list of ingredients, he left, leaving the two students alone once again.

"Are you going to help me this time, Malfoy?" Hermione asked with a sneer. He gave her a lazy smile and stood next to her, nodding.

"Nothing else to do. Might as well get it finished so we can have a fag later on." He peered over her shoulder at the clipboard, reading some of the ingredients. "Bloody hell, there are a lot."

Hermione felt a sort of itching prickly feeling on her wrist and looked down. _'Damn, I totally forgot, and now I don't have my cloak! That means Malfoy might see, and then I'll be humiliated.'_ She quickly let her arm fall to her side, trying her best to hide the fresh cuts from Malfoy and walked over to the cabinets she had been dusting the previous night. "We'll start by looking in here."

Right away she began counting and marking things on the list. A few minutes went by, Malfoy double-checking her counting. After a long while of silence between the both of them besides the continual counting and mutterings of numbers Malfoy began striking up conversation.

"So, Granger, how far have you gone?"

She blushed and immediately wanted to smack him, but thought against the idea since fighting and hitting was one of the reasons they were together like this in the first place. "That's none of your business." She grumbled.

"I've gone all the way, and not just once. Loads of times."

"Lovely, and I bet you've done every girl here except for me." She began counting the sets of honeysuckle in front of her.

He laughed. "Nice one, Granger, but even though I'm very popular with the ladies, I've only managed to actually shag four." She looked disgustedly at him, although curious, and he smirked. She gave him a look that asked him who they were and he continued. "Pansy Parkinson was my first, during fifth year. She and I still shag once in awhile, and… you're not going to believe this one, but Cho Chang."

"Are you serious?" she asked, a little disgruntled about the sweet, shy, pretty Ravenclaw girl actually shagging somebody, especially Malfoy. "How in Merlin's name did that happen?"

"Well, it was last year. I found her crying in one of the corridors on my prefect shift, and she told me how sad she was about Cedric and how she thought that Harry hated her and she was just a mess. So, she clung to me, crying in my shoulder, and it just sort of… happened. Surprised me, even. She wasn't even a virgin. Cedric probably did the deed before he died."

"Hmm… very interesting." She marked down another number on the list for Wasped Radishes. "Who were the other two, then?"

"You wouldn't know them. They were foreign girls. I met one in Japan and the other in France when Father, Mother and I went on vacation on a trip around the world."

"I would love to go on a trip around the world." She sighed dreamily, counted another herb, and marked it down. "You seem to like those Asians."

"What's not to like? As long as they're witches." He smirked and recounted the herb she had just marked down. "No, it's not sixteen, it's seventeen." Hermione shrugged and remarked it on her clipboard. "Which brings me back to you."

"I'm not telling _you_ about my love life."

"Probably because it's non-existent." He sneered.

She bottled up the rage from that comment. She did _too_ have a love life. It surely wasn't as interesting as his was, but it was still there, damnit. "I will assure you that it in fact _does_ exist. I'll have you know that in fourth year Viktor Krum and I snuck off and snogged in a random corridor and that's not where it ends."

"Oh, really?" Draco smirked. "What else did you and Viktor do in that random corridor? Surely you two didn't do the nasty?"

"Of course not! But he did… err…" She blushed, trying her best to make it look like she was counting another one of the ingredients.

"What, love? Finger you?" He asked her shamelessly.

"There will be no more talk of this! It's inappropriate."

"Who cares, Granger? No ones here except us." They were silent for a few moments. "So he did, did he?"

"Erm… yeah." She turned away so he couldn't see her face, which was completely red with embarrassment.

"Ooh, so the pure, Gryffindor Golden Girl really isn't that pure at all?"

"Sod off, you prat."

"Hmm… was he your only partner in crime?" Here was his plan to strike a deep nerve in her. "I would expect that the Weasel would have gotten some action from you over the years as well."

Hermione stiffened, then turned quickly to face him, dropping the clipboard on the floor. "Do _not_ talk to me about that bloody prick! _He_ disgusts me more than _you_ disgust me!"

Malfoy was taken aback. He had no idea her reaction would result in yelling. He wasn't quite sure if this was for better or for worse. "Did something happen? If I do so remember you two were quite comfortable together at lunch." Hermione groaned and tears began to leak from her eyes again, but this remained unnoticed to her.

"He… he's shagging that _slut_, Lavender! I can't _believe_ it! I thought they were over!" She roared, and she wiped her face wither he hands, now very well aware of the tears soaking her face. Draco felt that twinge of guilt again as he watched her cry, almost helpless. He had no idea that the Weasel had actually been shagging the girl. She must have found this out before dinner, and that was the reason she hadn't been there. "I _hate_ him!"

"Hate is such a strong word, Granger. Surely, you can't possibly hate your best friend of seven years. You must love him if this situation upsets you this much." She glared up at him, her eyes watering, and her hair a mess in her face, her chest trembling.

"_You_ wouldn't know anything about love, Malfoy. You are a heartless, pureblooded git." She turned to run away but he was too fast for her, and he grabbed her left wrist to try and bring her back and stop her from escaping. Hermione's eyes widened and she let out a shriek of pain as his hand roughly rubbed at her bloodied wrist and she snapped her arm to her chest protectively, cradling the wounded limb with her other hand.

"What's the matter with you, Granger? Did I hurt you?" He asked, trying not to sound like he cared all that much. "What's wrong with your arm? Let me see it."

"No!" And she began to run away again, but this time he caught her around the shoulders, and reached for her arm. It was most difficult to grab it while she was thrashing around, so he decided that he needed to calm her down in someway. He quickly began stroking her hair again, very lightly, making sure to come into contact with her ear and cheek as he did so. Her thrashes turned into empty attempts of escape as she inwardly crumbled under his caresses. She openly wept, tears sprinkling the white fabric on the arm that was holding her against him, her back to his stomach. Once she stopped thrashing and pushing and pulling, he gently reached down and took her arm in his hand, and looked down at it.

He wasn't ready for what he saw. He hadn't expected this at all. His lips turned into a deep frown, his brow wrinkling in concentration. He lightly rubbed his thumb over the fresh cuts and heard a soft, pitiful whimper escape her mouth. He took a deep breath. "Did you do these yourself?" Like he needed an answer. It was so obvious she had mutilated herself. She nodded in his embrace. "Because of Weasley?" She gave another sob at the mentioned name and he turned her around to face him. "He's not worth it. Don't do that to yourself just because he's too thick-headed to realize you were right in front of him the whole time." She sniffled, gave a little whimper, and lunged into his arms, sobbing wildly into his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist. He wasn't prepared for that either. To his surprise Granger was much more unpredictable than he thought. Slowly, he reached around her and rubbed the small of her back and cradled her shoulders with the other arm. Her body wracked against him, and her mouth shuddered and let out small gasps every time she inhaled, sending shivers up and down his body.

"It's not fair. I would have done it with him if he had the courage to even ask me." She said though sniffles and shudders. He was surprised at that too. If all you had to do was ask her and she would shag you, than this would be much much _much_ more easier than he thought. But, the fact that she wasn't in love with him like she was with Ron nagged at him at the back of his head and he then realized that it wouldn't be all that easy. But he was ahead of the Weasel so far by comforting the girl and he had never broken her heart before like he had. That must have counted for something.

Hermione's brain was on overdrive. _'I hate Ron. I HATE HIM! Malfoy smells really, really good. Like spice and cigarette smoke. I like it. Ron is such a git! I can't believe him. I feel really warm in Malfoy's embrace. I feel safe. I don't feel as lonely as I did before. Wait, what am I doing? This is Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!'_

Hermione looked up at Draco, ready to tell him that she was leaving this detention because she needed to be alone when the words caught in her throat and never left her lips. He had a very loving, caring gaze. It was the most curious thing. He looked as if he was guilty. He was taking pity on her. He actually looked like he felt sad because she was sad. It was so very fascinating…

Before she knew what had happened, Malfoy's lips were on hers, gentle, almost like he was caressing her mouth. Funny, she had always thought his kisses would be rough and demanding, but they were the complete opposite. They were consoling, and soft, and warm. It sparked electricity in her veins that she hadn't felt for ages. She closed her eyes and willingly let him snake his tongue in her mouth and caress hers with his own. She moaned into his mouth, a humming vibrations sending a shiver down his spine. Her lightly nipped at her bottom lip, then slid his tongue over it, and then gently kissed her on her lips again.

Suddenly her mind registered what was going on and she quickly pulled away, ramming into the desk behind her with a soft thud. She hugged herself, not able to look him in the eye, and slowly backed away from him towards the door. "I… I have to go." And she ran off and left Draco by himself for the second night in a row.

He sighed, ruffling his silky hair and picked up the clipboard. His plan was successful, although he didn't really feel all that happy about it. He had upset her, but at least now she knew that she could come to him. Maybe there was a chance after all. Frowning slightly he began finishing up the inventory.

AN: So? How was it? I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was enjoyable writing it. And don't worry, Hermione won't kill herself. No no no. Without Hermione in a D/Hr pairing, what would this be? It would be a really weird fic. Anyway, review! Chapter four will be up once I finish writing it!

Love,  
Jami


End file.
